Speaking of the bird as observed by him in Norfolk, Mr. Stevenson says, “ The Grasshopper Warbler
arrives earlier and leaves later than either the Reed- or Sedge-Warblers. It is seldom heard in the middle
of the day, and never in windy weather; but sometimes, on a fine sunny afternoon, when scarcely a breath
of air is stirring the feathery tops of the reeds, its loud creaking note may be heard in some neighbouring
sedges; rarely, however, will it expose itself to danger, even by a short flight to some other hiding-place.
Early in the morning, or on moonlight nights, appear to be the only certain times for seeing i t ; for it then
seems to be much less cautious, and either hanging from the reed-stems, or perched on the topmost twig of
some small bush, it* may be observed creaking for a long time, and constantly moving its head from side to
side. If heard over night, when too dark for anything to be distinguished, it will invariably be found in the
same place at the fir§t dawn of morning; and even if fired at and missed in the evening he will still remain
near the same spot. Though occasionally met with in Kedge-banks away from any stream, it is always most
certain of being found amongst reeds and sedges in company with its kindred species. I cannot help
thinking that, although visiting this country in far less numbers than the Reed- and Sedge-Warblers, it is
not so rare as is generally supposed, and that it may be met with in most localities as well suited to its shy
mouse-like actions as our Norfolk Broads.”
The following interesting remarks respecting the nidlfication of this bird appeared in the ‘ Zoologist.’
They are from the pen of the Rev. W. Turner, of Uppingham, and as they were deemed worthy of insertion
in Mr. Hewitson’s work on the ‘ Eggs of British Birds,’ cannot be out of place here.
“ Having in 1835, and twice since, found the nest of the Grasshopper Warbler, I am enabled to give the
following particulars respecting i t :—The first nest was about the middle of a small plantation of about four
or five years’ growth. Out of a tuft of grass, overarched by a bramble, and containing a small plant of
white thorn, I observed something hop, as it were, and immediately drop into the herbage. I examined
the tuft in hopes of finding a nest of something or other, but a careful search resulted in disappointment.
In the course of the day I returned to the sp o t; there was the same hop and away, but the motion was
so short and quick that I could not even then distinguish whether I had seen a bird or a mouse. I then sat
down by the spot to watch if anything would approach, and it was not long before I observed the grass
move, and a veritable Sylvia locustella, threading its way through the grass, approached within arm’s-length
of me; after eyeing me for a moment it commenced a retreat. Feeling confident there must be a nest, I
took my knife and carefully cut away the herbage near the tuft, and then proceeded with the tuft itself, in the
very centre of which, and in a depression of the ground, I found the object of my search; but to the very
last there was not the slightest appearance of ingress or egress. I was so struck with what I had witnessed
that I again sat down, and ever and anon the same stealthy movements to and fro were repeated. The other two
nests I detected, in the same manner, in small open places in an extensive wood; their situations were
exactly alike, the centres of two very large tufts of coarse grass, at a depth of fourteen or fifteen inches
from the top. In both cases I watched the movements of the female, they were precisely the same as above
described; she never rose on the wing; and it would seem probable that, if not disturbed, she never flies
either to or from her nest, but threads her way through the herbage, and thus effectually prevents everything
that could lead to the discovery of her retreat. The whole proceeding most forcibly reminded me of a
mouse under similar circumstances. The nests in the two latter instances were entirely of dried grass, finer
internally; in the first there was a little moss, owing probably to a trifling difference of situation.”
Mr. Selby describes the nest as being composed of moss and dried stems of Ladies’ Bedstraw (Galium),
and the eggs as four or five in number; but Mr. Yarrell says that sometimes as many as seven are laid.
They are of a pinkish grey, numerously speckled with a darker tint, and are eight lines long by six
lines broad.
The male has the crown of the head, back, and wings olive-brown, each feather with a dark brown centre;
tail uniform brown; chin and abdomen buffy white ; lower part of the breast spotted with brown ; remainder
of the under surface fulvous ; under tail-coverts pale brown, with a dark brown streak down the centre of
each feather; irides brown; upper mandible dark olive-brown, under mandible yellowish brown at the base,
passing into dark olive-brown at the tip ; legs pale flesh-colour in some instances, reddish flesh-colour
in others.
The female is usually described as differing only in being of a uniform pale brown on the under surface
and destitute of the spots on the breast; but it appears that the presence or absence of these spots is not to
be depended upon as indicative of sex, for I have a male, presented to me by Mr. Osbert Salvin, in which
they are absent, and a female in which .they are present, and a nearly fledged young exhibiting this feature,
though not to the same extent as in the adult. I believe it has been previously remarked that the legs
are destitute of scutellae and that they are peculiarly hard and solid, and this I find to be the case in my
specimens.
The Plate represents the two sexes, of the size of life, on a branch of the Clematis Vitalba.